Coincidences
by Angel LeeAnn
Summary: FINISHED! A chance encounter between Agent Mulder and Doctor Scully one rainy night while jogging.
1. Chapter One

Title: Coincidences
    
    Author: Angel LeeAnn
    
    Rating: PG-13
    
    Category: MSR / Angst
    
    Keyword(s): Alternate Universe
    
    Spoiler(s):
    
    Summary: A chance encounter between Agent Mulder and
    
    Doctor Scully.
    
    Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN THEM! Our dear old pal, Chris
    
    Carter, is the glorious creator.
    
    *~**TIMELINE**~*:  First off, Scully never joined the FBI.
    
     However, the events up to the end of the THIRD season
    
    have occurred in Mulder's life – just a little altered
    
    since of course Scully isn't his partner.
    
    **NOTE**: This is something I wrote awhile back and had posted at Gossamer. 
    
    CHAPTER ONE
    
    Bump in the Night
    
    3 June (Thursday)
    
    Streets of Georgetown
    
    12:35AM
    
    The roll of thunder was a premonition that the skies
    
    were eventually going to break apart and drench the
    
    city.  However, he ignored the warning and continued
    
    his jog around the deserted park.  It was chilly for
    
    June due to the drizzle that had begun over an hour
    
    ago.  He zipped his jacket up further, never missing a
    
    step.
    
    He was rounding a corner of the pond that was nestled
    
    securely in the center of the park, when he stumbled
    
    over an enormous rock.  He went sailing to the cement,
    
    his hands reaching out to break his inevitable fall. 
    
    To his shock, his feet, now twisted underneath "the
    
    rock", was being crushed by something soft…and moving.
    
    He glanced over his shoulder and barked out a hearty
    
    laugh at the woman he had apparently tripped over. 
    
    She stole a peek at him, her look of irritation
    
    melting into a smile.  She managed to roll off his
    
    feet.  He crawled to a stance, bending down to offer
    
    the woman a lending hand.  "I'm so sorry, ma'am.  I
    
    didn't see you there."
    
    She shrugged, pointing down to her tennis shoes.  One
    
    of them was unlaced.  "It's ok, I just bent down to
    
    tie my shoe.  I guess you couldn't see me in the
    
    dark."  She brushed strands of her hair behind her
    
    ear, releasing a belly laugh.  "Besides, it isn't
    
    every day a handsome man falls head over heels over
    
    me."
    
    He chuckled, dipping his head bashfully.  He kicked at
    
    a pebble, sending it off skittering somewhere into the
    
    darkness.  "Well, whether you view me attractive or
    
    not, I'm still sorry.  My mother taught me better than
    
    to run over women with my giant feet."
    
    She giggled, but not one of those 'valley
    
    girl/cheerleader' giggles.  Her giggle was deeper and
    
    richer; instead of grating on his nerves it was
    
    soothing.  "And your mother is a very wise woman, but
    
    you could have done worse with your first impression."
    
    "Yeah, I could have knocked you out."  He snapped his
    
    fingers in mock regret.  "Damn, now the good ideas
    
    start flowing."
    
    She rolled her eyes playfully.  "Yeah.  What a
    
    bummer."  She shifted her weight to her left foot…then
    
    her right.  The comfortable silence began to grow
    
    awkward.
    
    "Hey, it was great ramming into you.  If there is any
    
    damage you can bill me."  He reached into his sweat
    
    pant's pocket to withdraw a business card.  "Here, you
    
    can have your lawyer give me a call."
    
    She grinned, taking the card.  "Hey, you're an FBI
    
    agent?"  She slipped the card into her jacket pocket. 
    
    "Now what a scandal it would be if I released to the
    
    press that you mauled me."
    
    He shrugged.  "I've had worse charges brought against
    
    me."  He puckered his lips in thought then announced,
    
    "Well, again, I'm sorry.  Enjoy the rest of your
    
    evening."  He waited a momentary second before darting
    
    off. 
    
    She watched him go.  His tall figure disappearing into
    
    the night.  She sighed and headed off to the café she
    
    frequently visited at the corner of Pine and West
    
    Sixth.  She entered the tiny coffee shop and was
    
    instantly assaulted with the bitter smell of lattes,
    
    cappuccinos, and expressos.  She loved coffee, but she
    
    had never quite gotten used to the powerful aroma.
    
    She ordered a French Vanilla then slid into a far
    
    corner booth where the lights were dimmer.  She was
    
    the only customer, but that was to be expected so late
    
    at night.  She wouldn't have minded the solitude if
    
    the cashier had stopped eyeing her like a piece of
    
    juicy meat.
    
    The bell over the door rung and she peered over her
    
    mug to see a familiar man: the handsome man who had
    
    tripped over her.  She caught his eye after he had
    
    gotten his drink and waved him over.
    
    He approached with stunned awe, his lips curved into a
    
    gorgeous smile.  "Hey, Stranger, long time no see." 
    
    He hesitated until she motioned for him to sit
    
    opposite of her.  He slid into the booth.  "I'd have
    
    figured you were on your way home since it being so
    
    late."
    
    She gave a light laugh.  "I'm thirty years old…I
    
    haven't had a curfew in twelve years."  Between sips
    
    of French Vanilla, she questioned, "What?  You think
    
    just because I'm a woman I can't handle the
    
    big-bad-world?"
    
    "No, no, no," he leaned forward, wrapping his large
    
    hands around his steaming cup.  "I have no doubt that
    
    you could handle yourself.  I was only making an
    
    innocent statement."
    
    She snorted.  "Be honest with me.  You see a five foot
    
    three petite woman alone…your first instinct is to
    
    assume I'm a damsel."
    
    "Actually, I see a…uh…redhead," 'redhead' was
    
    pronounced as though he were questioning the word,
    
    "who handles a dangerous situation with a flare of
    
    confidence.  If I'd bumped into any other woman this
    
    late at night, I would be in handcuffs right now.  And
    
    not for pleasurable purposes."
    
    She rolled her eyes heaven word.  "Gee, Fox, I don't
    
    need to know your sexual preferences."
    
    He shook his head in disgust.  "Mulder.  Call me
    
    Mulder.  I detest my first name."
    
    "Want to know a secret?  I would have called you Agent
    
    Mulder, but I was unsure how to say your name.  I was
    
    thinking it could be 'Mole-der' or 'Mule-der' or
    
    'Mu-lder'.  I didn't want to appear stupid."
    
    He chuckled.  "Well, I don't care what you call me as
    
    long as it isn't 'Fox'.  I mean, what kind of person
    
    names their kid that anyway?"
    
    "I'll admit it is rare, but I like it."
    
    He ducked his head, chuckling softly.  She found that
    
    she particularly liked the sound.  "So, you know my
    
    name.  It's only fair if you give me yours."
    
    "Dana Scully.  You are allowed to call me Dana."  She
    
    flashed him a brilliant smile.  "I'm a doctor – the
    
    kind you never want to see."
    
    Mulder cringed.  "You slice and dice, uh?"
    
    "Occasionally, but I'm also an ER doctor.  I only do
    
    autopsies if there is a shortage of doctors, but a
    
    surplus of corpses."  She sat back, running her hand
    
    over her wrinkling T-shirt.  "So, what do you do in
    
    the FBI?  Are you a paper pusher?"
    
    Mulder snorted.  "All agents have more paper work than
    
    the government will ever know what to do with. 
    
    Actually, I'm a Special Agent in Charge of my own
    
    division.  I've got one subordinate – my partner – who
    
    happens to be my ex-wife."
    
    "Wow.  That must be fun."
    
    "It is.  I let her fill out the expense reports in
    
    exchange for keeping my snide remarks to myself.  It
    
    works out."  He pulled out a bag from his jacket
    
    pocket.  "How about your martial status?"  He popped a
    
    couple of salty seeds into his mouth.
    
    "Well, I've never been married.  I was engaged once to
    
    this guy, Ethan, but it never would have worked out. 
    
    He wanted a barefoot and pregnant homemaker.  That's
    
    just not me."  She pushed her empty mug to the side. 
    
    "Don't get me wrong, I would love to have children.  I
    
    just don't want to be strapped down to the vacuum."
    
    "That's understandable.  I would leap off a bridge
    
    before I would ever stop working.  I wouldn't put away
    
    my cases for anything."
    
    "I doubt that one.  Surely when your mom comes to
    
    visit you at least *attempt* to be a good host. 
    
    Everyone has a little weak spot for their mothers."
    
    "Yeah, I did.  My mother passed away earlier this year
    
    from a stroke."  He shrugged it off, scraping at an
    
    imaginary smudge mark.  "It's no big deal, though. 
    
    Death is just a part of life.  Surely you being a
    
    doctor know that better than anyone."
    
    "It's still hard losing a loved one.  I lost my
    
    father a few years ago to a heart attack.  I was still
    
    grief-stricken even though I understood it
    
    completely."  She paused to catch her breath before
    
    asking, "What about your father?"
    
    His expression hardened as his teeth clenched.  His
    
    eyes turned cold and distant.  "He was murdered in his
    
    bathroom two years ago."
    
    "Oh, God, I'm so sorry.  I know that won't do anything
    
    to bring him back, but I am sorry.  Do you have
    
    any siblings?"
    
    His sour laugh caught her off guard.  "Oh, yeah, I
    
    have a sibling…somewhere."  He stood up, preparing to
    
    leave.  "If you're done, I'll walk you home.  It's
    
    past one in the morning and even though I know you
    
    could handle yourself, I would feel better if you
    
    didn't have to walk alone."
    
    "Oh, I don't know.  You could be some cracked up
    
    weirdo with a history of spousal abuse.  Yet, since
    
    your wife left you, you've been getting your jollies
    
    out of attacking other women."
    
    His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly
    
    recovered.  "That's actually rare.  The abuser may
    
    indeed hunt for new prey, but he would get his victim
    
    to trust him enough to enter a relationship before
    
    swinging away.  Abusers usually know that their
    
    actions are wrong – that's why they find a naïve woman
    
    to fall in love with them.  It's all about
    
    manipulation, power, and control.  Besides, I'm
    
    divorced, but my wife is still around to beat."
    
    "Ok.  You can walk me home, smoothie, but remind me
    
    never to 'enter a relationship' with you."
    
    "Oh, trust me, you'll remember that on your own."  He
    
    allowed her to proceed ahead of him, his hand going to
    
    rest on the small of her back, guiding her.
    
    She flinched at first at the physical contact, but relaxed
    
    as the warmth spread over her. "Oh, you've got
    
    self-esteem problems I see."  Once outside, he dropped
    
    his hand, moving to stand beside her as they strolled
    
    down the sidewalk.
    
    "No.  I'm full of confidence.  I waltz right into my
    
    bathroom, peer into the mirror, and spill my guts out.
    
    You can't say that's not having self-esteem?"
    
    Dana lowered her head as she shook it.  "God, you
    
    think you're a funny boy don't you?"
    
    "Hey, I've got you laughing don't I?"
    
    "Yes."  She titled her head back to stare up at the
    
    twinkling tears.  "The storm clouds have passed us. 
    
    Thank God."  She pointed heaven ward.  "Hey, look,
    
    there's the North Star."
    
    Mulder reluctantly gazed up into the night sky.  "You
    
    ever wonder if there is more to it than what we see? 
    
    Or does it end right there?  I know space continues
    
    on.  I just couldn't say how far.  Who knows?  Maybe
    
    there is an end.  Maybe those dim stars way in the
    
    back are the last ones."
    
    Dana averted her attention from the stars to the
    
    mystifying man next to her.  She studied his profile
    
    carefully.  He had handsome features with his strong
    
    jaw line, pouting lips, and distinguished nose.  Yet,
    
    there was a world of sadness etched into the lines of
    
    his face.
    
    Both their attentions not on the path, Mulder walked
    
    straight into a pole; breaking the spell.  He stumbled
    
    backwards as Dana burst out laughing.  "Damn pole, get
    
    out of my way!" he joked as he stepped around it.
    
    Dana was still giggling as she slowed to a halt in
    
    front of a looming apartment building.  "Well," she
    
    glanced over at the front door, "thanks for walking me
    
    home."
    
    Mulder bowed.  "It was my pleasure, my lady."
    
    "Which of these apartments are yours?"
    
    "I live in Arlington."
    
    "Arlington?  That's a half-hour drive away.  Why drive
    
    all the way over here to jog?"
    
    He looked sheepish as he murmured: "I didn't drive.  I
    
    run from Arlington to Georgetown and back at least
    
    three times a week."
    
    Her eyebrows shot up in amazement.  "Wow.  You must be
    
    the most in-shape person I've ever met."  She dug her
    
    keys out of her pocket.  "Why don't you come up and
    
    call a cab?  It's really late and you must be tired."
    
    "I have the secret to staying up."
    
    "And what's that?"
    
    "Insomnia, doctor, I have insomnia.  I actually feel
    
    more awake during the night than during the day."
    
    "That could just mean you're a vampire," she teased,
    
    turning and ambling up the four steps to the front
    
    door.
    
    "Do you believe in vampires, Doctor Scully?"  He
    
    trotted up behind her.
    
    "No.  There isn't any concrete proof to indicate
    
    anything of the sort."  Once inside, she inquired,
    
    "Surely you don't believe in vampires, Agent Mulder?"
    
    "Vampires, ghosts, UFOs, supernatural phenomenon of
    
    all sorts have been documented through out history. 
    
    Even the ancient civilizations have written about
    
    mysterious men coming from the sky.  Greeks and Mayans
    
    alike have told such stories.  And they didn't even
    
    know each other existed.  So, it is not as though the
    
    stories could have gotten around and been
    
    collaborated."
    
    She stared at him in bewilderment.  "You really
    
    believe in all of that stuff?"
    
    He shrugged.  "Yes.  I do."
    
    "Oh."  She trudged up the four flights of stairs in
    
    silence.  It wasn't until they reached her apartment
    
    did she say anything else.  "There's a phone in the
    
    foyer you can use."
    
    He picked up the device and began dialing, but before
    
    he could punch it all in, the line went dead.  "The
    
    storm came back," he commented as a loud crack erupted
    
    followed by a flash of light.  "Do you have a cell
    
    phone?"
    
    "Yes, but I took it in for repairs."  She headed
    
    further into the apartment.  "Why don't I make us
    
    something to drink.  You can try again later.  Sit
    
    down and make yourself comfortable."
    
    Mulder plopped onto the green sofa.  He scanned the
    
    room and found it to be feminine, but not overly so. 
    
    It had soft colors and textures, but there was no
    
    flower print in sight.  Pictures aligned the mantel of
    
    the fireplace and the bureau against the far wall.
    
    Dana returned with two mugs.  Mulder smiled
    
    gratefully.  "If that's strawberry tea it could be
    
    love."  He took the offered cup, taking a tentative
    
    sip.  "Must be fate…it's cherry tea."
    
    Dana giggled.  "Well, of course.  Remember I'm never
    
    to date you.  You're an abuser looking for another
    
    victim.  I'm not allowed to fall in love with you." 
    
    She sat back against the cushion.  "Friendship,
    
    though, is safe."
    
    "So," by the tone of his voice she knew he was
    
    switching gears.  "You live here all your life?"
    
    "No way.  My father, William, was a Captain in the
    
    Navy.  I grew up all over the country because every
    
    other year or so he was being transferred.  I didn't
    
    mind living on navel bases, but during my high school
    
    years I hated the constant moving."  She cradled her
    
    mug, the heat warming her hands.  "What about you?"
    
    His expression turned distant.  "I grew up on Martha's
    
    Vineyard."  He gulped down half the tea before smiling
    
    at her.  "So, you're a Navy brat?"
    
    "I guess you could say that.  However, I think my
    
    sister and brothers are the real brats," she said
    
    affectionately.  "Bill is the oldest so he's always
    
    thought that gave him the right to boss the rest of us
    
    around.  Missy is eleven months older than I am. 
    
    She's the rebel of the family.  Charlie is my younger
    
    brother and of course all older siblings find their
    
    little siblings a nuisance."  She chuckled.  "Listen
    
    to me just ramble on and on.  You mentioned you had a
    
    sibling."
    
    Mulder lowered his head.  "She's not around."
    
    "You mean she skipped town?"
    
    "If only that were the case."  Tears welled up and he
    
    held them determinedly.  Crying in front of this woman
    
    would just be dying of humiliation.  "I mean…she's
    
    missing.  She disappeared twenty-three years ago."
    
    "Oh wow.  That must be terrible.  I can't even
    
    imagine."
    
    "I believe she's still out there.  One of these days
    
    I'll find her.  And even if she is dead, then at least
    
    I'll have that closure."
    
    A sharp chirp caused them both to jump.  Mulder
    
    glanced around confused, but when the noise occurred
    
    again, he reached into his jacket and pulled out his
    
    cell phone.  "Mulder."
    
    [They found another body.  I thought you might want to
    
    look at the crime scene while it's still fresh.]
    
    "Where at?  What time are they placing the murder?"
    
    [Mayor's Woods.  Death maybe about two hours ago.]
    
    "Who found the body?  It's a bit odd for someone to be
    
    taking a stroll in the woods at two in the morning."
    
    Dana was still reeling with the fact that Mulder had
    
    had a phone with him this whole time.  He could have
    
    called for a cab, but had opted to play the stranded
    
    houseguest: not that she minded.
    
    [A homeless man who goes by the name of Tilly.  Look,
    
    I'm already on my way.  Are you going to meet me
    
    there?]
    
    Mulder glanced over at Dana feeling as though he were
    
    being torn into two different directions.  He needed
    
    to be at the crime scene, but he feared that the
    
    moment he walked out Dana's door he would never see
    
    her again.
    
    [Fox?]
    
    "Mulder, Diana, call me Mulder.  How many times must
    
    I…"
    
    [God, Fox, save it for someone else.  I called you
    
    that when we married and it is just habit.  Are you
    
    coming or not?]
    
    "Yes, of course."
    
    He snapped his phone shut, getting up from the couch. 
    
    "I enjoyed your company, but duty calls."
    
    "You had the phone the whole time," she admonished.
    
    His sheepish smile was charming.  "Yes.  Can you
    
    blame a guy for wanting to spend more time with a
    
    wonderful woman?  It was just my luck that the phone
    
    lines went down.  It gave me the perfect excuse."
    
    Dana blushed at his compliment.  "It was nice meeting
    
    you, Agent Mulder."
    
    "Likewise, Doctor Scully."  He hesitated in the hopes
    
    she would offer to see him again, but without

encouragement he let himself out.

END CHAPTER ONE


	2. Chapter Two

**NOTE**: Sorry that the last chapter came out looking kind of funky.  I hope this will be easier for you.

**Daydr3am3r** AND **Brennan mulwray** AND **Samantha**:  Thank you all so very much!

**BrokenHeartsAndShatteredDreams**:  Your hopes pulled through!  It wasn't the end, but there's not much left either.  Thanks for the review!

**Bookyalex**:  Just curious: French your native language?  Thanks for the review!

**TLWROX**:  Have I seen you on the TLW board?  Anyway, just so you know, I don't like Diana either.  Lol.  Thanks for the review and the compliments!

**Cynthia**:  How could I say no to begging like that?  Lol.  Thanks for the review!

CHAPTER TWO

June 7 (Monday)

Georgetown Memorial

3:35AM

The emergency bay doors burst apart as EMTS bolted in with a line of five stretchers.  All five bodies were soaked in blood, their faces pallid.  The paramedics hollered for assistance as one of the female victims went into cardiac arrest.

Doctors and nurses came bounding down the corridor screaming out orders.  Dana Scully was the first to reach them and took hold of the first stretcher.  "What happened?"

One of the paramedics still holding onto the stretcher shook his head.  "We got a call about fifteen minutes ago.  The dispatcher told us that agents had been shot.  Apparently, they were ambushed in a warehouse.  Three were already dead when we arrive.  These five were barely hanging on."

Dana peered down at the bloodstained face of her new patient.  "Did you get the names of the agents?"

The paramedic picked up a wallet lying on the blanket next to the fallen man.  "This one here is Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI."

Dana gasped, her mind flashing back to the night she was run over by the handsome jogger.  She shook herself out of her reverie, pushing the stretcher into an operating room.  "You assess how many wounds?"

"Two from what we could tell.  One went straight through his left shoulder.  The other one I believe is lodged in his right forearm."

"Okay, help me transport him."  Together they pulled Mulder from the stretcher to the operating table.  "Find me Doctor Poulson."

June 9 (Wednesday)

Georgetown Memorial

2:30AM

He groaned, his mouth tasting as though he swallowed a pound of sandpaper.  He slowly pried open his eyes, squinting even though the light was on the dimmest setting.  He rubbed his tongue over his cracked lips, wincing as the pain in his chest finally registered.

"You're awake," a gentle voice whispered beside him.  "Would you like some water?"

"Yeah," he crooked from his dried throat.  His wish was granted and he was soon taking small sips from a Styrofoam cup.  "Thank…you."

"You're most definitely welcome, Agent Mulder."

Mulder turned his head slightly to the side, a tiny smile forming.  "Hello…again…Doctor…Scully."  He coughed then, hissed sharply as the stabbing pain shot through his chest.

"Try and take it easy, Mulder.  You've been unconscious since they brought you in two days ago.  You're body needs plenty of rest."  Dana slipped some painkillers into his IV.  "Why don't you just relax."

In three minutes, Mulder was snoring softly.

-*-*-*-*-

Dana glanced at her watch and sighed.  Finally, her shift was over.  She made a few more notes on Mister Goldblum's charts then headed off to the locker rooms.  She couldn't wait to get out of her uniform.  As much as she loved her job, she couldn't stand the standardized suits.

She slipped into her jeans and white T-shirt.  She didn't bother applying on make-up.  There wasn't anyone to impress.  She strolled out of the room intent on going home to a nice hot bath, but paused as she passed Radiology.  She turned back around, making her way up to the third floor.  She didn't even hesitate; just waltzed right into his room.

To her surprise, the agent was wide awake and watching a paid program for a diet supplement.  He glanced her way as she stepped into the room, his face unable to mask his pleasure at seeing her.  He motioned to the TV with his head.  "They say I can eat pizza everyday and still lose weight.  I say, all I need is a few days in a hospital and I'll be as thin as a twig."

She chuckled softly, plopping down on the chair next to his bed.  "You know, we tried contacting your next of kin, but the funny thing is – you didn't have one listed."

"I'm not much one for company when I'm injured."  He flicked off the television.  "So, doc, I think I'm going to live.  When can I spring from this joint?"

Her look was incredulous.  "What?  You were shot – twice – two days ago.  You won't be permitted to leave for a few days yet.  And that's only if everything goes smoothly."

He released a frustrated sigh.  "Damn."  He closed his eyes, flinching at the memory of the warehouse.  When he looked back at her, his features were etched from anguish.  "How about the others?  Did they make it?"

Dana swallowed back the lump in her throat.  _What's wrong with me?  I'm not usually this emotional over patients_.  "I'm really sorry.  Three were dead on site.  Five of you came in critically wounded; two of which didn't make it."

"Oh God," he murmured.  "Diana?"  His eyes sparked to life and his tone rose with panic.  "What about Diana?  Diana Fowley?  She was at my side when the guns went off.  We had no warning.  It was a crime scene for the love of the God!  We were examining the body of the latest victim when the first ray of gunfire erupted.  Diana…she was…she was hit in the back.  God, please, tell me she made it!"

Dana bit her lip, her crestfallen eyes unable to look at his pain.  "I'm so sorry, Mulder.  No one by that name came through here.  I can only assume that means she…she was one of the original three who…didn't survive."  Then to her horror, he began to sob.  His tears burned her heart.  

"Oh God…no…she wasn't even supposed to be there.  She was scheduled to be at a conference in Detroit.  I made her miss her flight so she would stay."

Dana leapt to her feet, her hands caressing his face.  Wiping away the tears, she soothed: "It's not your fault.  There's no way you could have known.  No one blames you for anything."

As if seeing her for the first time, he snapped out of his sorrow.  He tensed under her touch.  "I…I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to…I just…she was my partner."

"You're ex-wife, too, wasn't she?"

"Yes."

"You still loved her," she asked tenderly.

He looked away, peering at the wall with great interest.  "It was complicated."  He sighed.  "Thank you for telling me, Dana.  I'm glad I found out from you rather than the ten o'clock news."

-*-*-*-

Dana never got another chance to steal away from the ER to visit him.  One evening after work, she went up to see him but was told he had been released.  To her surprise, she found she was disappointed in the thought she would never see him again.

END CHAPTER TWO


	3. Chapter Three

**Bookyalex**:  I love that episode, too!  It was a great Mulder-angst episode!  Lol.  J'ai pris la classe française, aussi!  (Sorry, I'm a little rusty.  Did I say that right?)   

**Daydr3am3r **AND** Fuel **AND **CB15**:  Thank you very much!

**Gillian Leigh**:  Just to warn you, I tend to leave things hanging.  Lol.  I hope that doesn't bother you!

**NightBloomingJasmine2**:  Of course they are!  I'm too big of an X-phile: they _must_ be together!  Lol.  Thank you for the review!

**Samantha**:  I HATE HER, TOO!  Hence, why I killed her.  Lol.  Granted, she ended up saving Mulder in the end (on the show), but still!

**Creeps**:  Well, this is the last chapter.  I hope you approve!

**Brennan mulwray**:  Whether Diana was dead or alive she would never be allowed to be with (*cough***_MY_***cough*) Mulder!  Lol.  Thanks for the review!

CHAPTER THREE

FOUR MONTHS LATER

October 13 (Friday)

Casey's Bar

10:13 PM

Soft rock and the murmur of conversations filtered through the crowded tavern.  In the back room you could hear a drunk getting pissed as he lost yet another round of pool.  The lights were – typically – dimmed to a few shades shy of being off.

A sensual woman sauntered over, gliding into the barstool beside Mulder, her hand straying up his thigh.  "Hey, handsome, you look lonely.  Would you like company?"

He managed to flash the busty brunette a small smile.  "I'm not welcoming company tonight."  He hissed as her delicate fingers stroked him through his suit pants.  Like a teenager experiencing a woman's touch for the first time, he became instantly aroused.  He sighed, shifting away from her.  He removed her playful hand from his crotch.  "Look, you're very beautiful.  And I think it's obvious that you're a turn on.  However, the only company I want is Vodka with a dash of Scotch."  He pecked her on the cheek, then drew back and winked at her.  "I know you'll be able to pick up any other man in here.  So, why don't you go ahead?"

The stunned prostitute slowly brought her hand to where he had kissed her.  She was dazed…and utterly charmed.  "I…maybe a rain check, then?"

"We'll see."  Mulder had no intention to sleep with the whore.  He never stooped that low.  Besides, he was a law enforcement officer: talk about being a hypocrite.

The gorgeous woman slid off the seat.  "See you later, handsome."  And she disappeared into the crowd leaving Mulder to his drink.

"Is this seat taken?"

He turned wearily at the sound of a soft female voice.  He really didn't want to handle another prostitute.  Looking up, he chuckled.  "Why, doc, what brings you into my neighborhood?"

Dana Scully propped herself onto the stool the whore had just vacated.  Ignoring his question, she said: "I saw how you handled that woman.  It was charming.  Most men would have either taken her offer or brushed her off harshly."  She ordered her drink then turned her attention back to him.  "Though the kiss may have been a bit much."

"Jealous," he inquired teasingly.

"No."  She took a sip of her drink.  "You left the hospital without a goodbye, Agent Mulder."

"Missed me?"

"No way, but all the nurses on the floor did."

"Liar."  He drummed his fingers on the countertop.  "So, what brings you into this neck of the woods?  You don't live nor work in D.C."

"I was consulting on a case for D.C. Homicide."  She scanned him over, but her scrutiny wasn't lustful – she was in doctor mode.  "So, how's everything healing?  You're lucky the wounds were clean-cut."

"Yeah," he snorted.  "Lucky."  He finished his glass in one fluent toss.  "Look, I'm not good company this evening.  So, if you don't want a moody ass on your hands then maybe you should…"

"Hey, mister, I think I can decide if I want to put up with you or not."  She smiled, running her fingers along the rim of her glass.  "So, was it a rough day at work?"

He looked around then, leaned into her personal space.  "You want to blow this joint?"

She gazed up into his earnest – and soulful – eyes.  "Yeah."  She gathered up her stuff and followed him out the door.  On the street, she was surprised when he didn't hail a cab, but just started strolling down the sidewalk.  She rushed to catch up.  "Want to tell me about your adverse day?"

He kicked a stone, sending it scattering somewhere into the darkness.  "Work was actually ok.  How about you?"

"Fine.  So, what has you in a depression chokehold?"

He chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets.  "Damn you're persistent.  This day is always just a shitty day."  He smiled sideways at her.  "It's my birthday."

"Oh.  I would say happy birthday, but obviously that will go in one ear and out the other.  What do you have against your birthday?"

"It's the day that marks when my pitiful life came into existence."  He barked out a laugh.  "God, isn't it ironic that October thirteenth is my birthday?  I was even born on a Friday.  And now look at my life.  I've lived up to my birthday – I hunt aliens, Big Foot, and Fluke-men for a living!"  He tossed his hands skyward and yelled: "I am Fox "Spooky" Mulder!"

"Spooky?"

By now they had made it to the reflecting pool.

Mulder dropped onto the bench.  (Note to readers: the following dialogue was taken from the movie):  "I'm a key figure in an ongoing government charade.  An annoyance to my superiors.  A joke to my peers.  Whose sister was abducted by aliens when he was a kid.  Who now chases little green men with a badge and a gun, shouting to the heavens and anyone who'll listen that the fix is in.  That our government's hip to the truth and a part of the conspiracy.  That the sky is falling, and when it hits it's gonna be the shit storm of all time."

She was speechless.  _He is a nut…or is he?  Maybe it is only the alcohol talking_.  "I…I don't understand.  You're sister was…abducted…by aliens?  And you think the government is in on it?"

He groaned, bending at the waist.  "God, I don't want to drag you into my demented world.  Damn me for being drunk.  I always ramble off when I'm drunk – it is one of the reasons why I quit drinking in the first place."

She gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he sharply brushed her off and leapt to his feet.  "Damn it," he screamed at her.  "Get the hell away from me!  You don't understand what you're walking into!"

She flinched, a sense of fear crawling up from the pit of her stomach.  He saw the look of fright peering out from her eyes and he instantly regretted his outburst.  He sighed then, whispered: "Look, Dana, I…I admire you.  I…like you.  It's just that…I'm dangerous.  My work is dangerous.  My associates are dangerous.  My past is dangerous.  I just…death follows me around.  Everyone in my life dies.  I don't want anymore blood on my hands."

"I'm not afraid, Fox."  She rose to a stance, taking his large hand in her slender one.  "Let's go back to my place for some coffee."

October 14 (Saturday)

Dana's Residence

4:35AM

He moaned as the headache dragged him out of slumber.  He rubbed at his sore eyes then, stretched.  He froze.  A weight on his chest brought his eyes flying open and he gasped.  He was met be red hair fanning out just underneath his chin.  He squeezed his eyes shut to try and force the memories of last night to resurface.  Did they have sex?

He remembered how they had gone to her place for coffee.  They'd staggered over to her sofa and collapsed on top of the soft cushions.  After a long, thick pause Dana had flipped the TV on and retrieved them some popcorn.  They both must've fallen asleep while watching the World War II documentary.

Mulder licked his dry lips, sighing in relief.

-*-*-*-

She wasn't surprised or angry when she awoke at seven o'clock alone on the couch.  She curled deeper into the cushions, not sure how to feel about his vanishing act.

Then she heard the sound.

Dana quietly crawled off the sofa.  She grabbed the lamp from the side table, poising it over her head in readiness to smash it over the intruder's head.  She tiptoed over to the kitchen.  She swung around into the room, the weapon slipping from her hand and crashing to the floor.  "Fox!"

He was barefoot and standing over the stove frying bacon, eggs, and sausage.  "Hey, welcome to the land of the living."  He piled two plates with the steaming breakfast.  "I was afraid I was going to have to wake you.  But you made it just in time."

"It's seven in the morning," she stated as though that in its self should explain why she had still been sleeping.  "And it's Saturday."

"I know.  Otherwise I would have been up at five."  He filled the two coffee mugs on the table then, set the plates down beside them.  He settled in a chair and picked up his fork.  "You going to stand there all morning or are you going to eat?"

Dana realized she was still gawking like a fool and mechanically plopped down in the chair opposite of him.  "I was positive you had gone."

He nodded understandingly.  "Yeah.  I was rather surprised myself that I stayed.  I mean…this is…awkward."  He shoved some eggs into his mouth.  After swallowing, he continued.  "I woke up last night and nearly freaked, about to run for the hills.  But then the most amazing thing happened.  I realized I was under you and I didn't have the heart to wake you.  You looked so peaceful and comfortable.  So, I decided to stay."

She blushed.

"Yeah," his face was flaming red.  "I don't want to discuss it.  If you analyze it then the intrigue disappears.  It's mystifying by nature and not meant to be understood."

She took a tentative sip of her coffee.  "I don't want to analyze it either – yet.  However, I end up analyzing everything.  But I don't want to spoil this morning.  So, let's switch gears, Mr. Domestic.  What _do_ you do in the FBI?  All you told me was that you have your own division.  And you chase little green men.  I wouldn't think the FBI would handle such claims."

"It's called the X-files.  I investigate paranormal activities of any sort."

"You said last night that our government knows "the truth".  What truth is that?"

He looked at her, shaking his head.  "Forget everything I said.  Dana, you have no clue how deep and intricate this mess is.  It goes way to the top and touches the lives of everyone – whether they know it or not.  I can't…there's no way I could drag you into my world."

"Yeah, yeah, I know.  You told me last night about how everything is dangerous.  But, Mulder, I want the truth.  Would you deny me that?"

"Deny everything," he muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She eyed him strangely.  "Ok, I'll let it go – for now."

END CHAPTER THREE


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